Waiting by Stephanie Wright. The poem is about Anne Boleyn, second wife to King Henry the 8th. Sorry this follows no setup, I can't write poetry that way.

Waiting in this dank cell,

waiting for the excutioner to ring my bell.

Waiting for my final walk,

I walk with my head held high.

I will not falter,

I will not cry.

All I have now is my dignity,

and waiting.

I may be innocent,

but my master has judged me to die.

His love for me was great,

his love has destined me to die.

I so here I wait,

waiting for my moment.

I love him with all my heart,

if it is his desire for my life,

then who am I to question him?

I wait for my turn,

to walk up the 13 steps.

To address my kingdom once more,

finally to kneel and wait,

eyes closed, my conscious clean.

Take me swiftly to my maker,

I beg of thee, swish, slice,

and I wait no longer.